


Love It If We Made It

by taylocrow



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: All the Starks Are Alive and Thriving, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Grown Starks, Love Triangle, Modern AU, Modern Era, Robbs cool, Soft!Jon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-12 05:22:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18004619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylocrow/pseuds/taylocrow
Summary: Sansa Stark is caught between a callous boy from her past and a sweet man with a lot to give her. They both just so happen to be her older brother’s life long best friends.





	Love It If We Made It

**Author's Note:**

> I love pain and death and dying and torturing myself by writing this and making both Sansa and I choose and writing run on sentences.
> 
> Title taken from 1975’s song.

 

There’s an out of character pile of clothes huddled between Sansa’s floor length mirror and antique dresser that catches her eye while Theon is zipping his pants back up.

 

“It’s nothing personal,” The nonchalance of his tone twists the knife of betrayal deeper into her devastated teenage heart, “I’ll just be away at school and I won’t be around as much. You know, since Robb will be away too.”

 

The pile originated from hours earlier when Sansa had been desperately trying on and analyzing every inch of herself as she changed into each outfit. Every one that she deemed not good enough ended up in the heap. The longer Theon took to sneak out from Robb’s room, the outfits became uglier, and she in turn did also.

 

Sansa stared at the reflection of a foolish girl before giving up and sliding on a worn pair of pj pants covered in clouds and an old softball T-shirt. When the disappointment melted into sleep, that’s when Theon’s weight shifting her bed caused her heart to soar.

 

“We need to talk.” He’d said solemnly but Sansa cut him off with a thirsty kiss. Theon was easy to wear down, that’s what got them in this position in the first place. Sneaking around behind her brother’s back and into each other’s pants.

 

After Theon pulled his hand out from her pants was when he decided he needed to break it off. Not when Arya almost caught them, or when Sansa accidentally and drunkenly confessed her feelings, or the time Theon cried to her over his home life.

 

Sansa pulled her eyes away from the crumpled mess of clothes and tried her best to make out his face in the darkness of her room. “Okay.” Was all she could manage to croak out.

 

He hesitated, she felt it, but he was out of her room before she collapsed onto her pillow in her own crumpled pile.

 

The next day she picked up her room and told her mom she needed new mascara that didn’t irritate her eyes.

 

                                                  *

 

“Happy birthday, you fucker!” Bran howls before he carelessly takes down his fifth tequila shot from Arya’s evil dare. Rickon, Robb, Sansa, and Jon all wince as they watch Bran take the José Cuervo without batting a lash. Theon whoops with Arya and Gendry shakes his head while shooting a proud beam at his girl.

 

Sansa’s head is swimming from the ridiculous alcohol consumption and blaring dance music at this club she’s never been to. Rickon leans over and strains his voice above the music, “This just took a dark turn.”

 

She laughs heartily in response and nods enough to make herself dizzy while Bran does a very out of character shimmy towards the dance floor. “Who _is_ that?” Sansa calls after him and everyone laughs and cheers for the younger Stark.

 

“It’s your birthday, shouldn’t you be the one on your fifth shot?” Sansa leans over Rickon to tease her sister. Arya merely waves her away, “I’m drunk enough bitch, so are you!” And the two of them pull a face before bursting into laughter.

 

Sansa pretends to not feel the weight of Theon Greyjoy’s eyes on her and reaches for her empty drink the same time that Jon Snow does. He blushes when their fingers brush, Sansa can tell even in the dim lighting of the club, and he’s polite when he leans in to speak to her. “Want another?”

 

The spearmint and whiskey on his breath dances across her exposed skin and makes her hair raise. It’s been a very long time since the Stark kids got together with Robb’s rag tag honorary friends both in attendance. They’re all so grown and busy now it’s beyond difficult to get everyone at the same time in the same place. Only Arya could bully everyone into coming around for her 25th birthday.

 

Jon’s still just as stoic and silent as when they were kids, but life has softened his edges and made him much warmer and approachable. I.e. handsome. Sansa swallows thickly when he licks his lower lip before questioning further, “What’ll you have?”

 

“Vodka cranberry.” She impresses even herself with her confidence oozing from her voice but Sansa stares at Bran dancing instead of reading his face to her blatant reaction at his closeness.

 

She knows she looks good. She wore this skimpy black number because she was bored and wanted to feel some eyes on her tonight for a quick and harmless ego boost. Admittedly, Jon had not been an intended target but she’s hardly mad at his attention.

 

His calloused thumb rubs her shoulder before he pushes up off the booth they’re all huddled on. Robb shouts out something to Gendry and it pulls Sansa from her daze and back to the here and now. It’s clear the night is beginning to wind down because Robb is drunk enough to start declaring his undying love for all his siblings and Bran continues to flail about the dance floor.

 

Jon’s back and passing her drink to her with a sly smirk that makes him look like he’s thirteen all over again. Sansa takes it gratefully and gives him a coy smile in return, it makes him clear his throat and rest his arm behind her and on top of the booth. “You’re liking teaching?”

 

Sansa takes a big sip and lets the alcohol coat her throat before answering, “Yeah it’s great fun and the kids keep it interesting. What about you?”

 

“If you need a kitten out of a tree, give me a call.” Jon attempts a wink that makes her giggle and squish up her nose. Imagining him in his fireman uniform makes her chest tight and cheeks hot. It’s silly and vapid but she looks down to check out his forearm muscle, but she’s much too tipsy to play it off as causal. Jon chuckles and takes a loud sip of his drink, “Looking for a ring?”

 

“A ring?” Sansa squeaks and he smirks in response before holding up his empty left hand. Jon twinkles his fingers, “Ygritte called off the wedding a couple months ago.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Jon lets out a dark laugh and finishes his whiskey, “Yeah, oh.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Sansa offers politely. “But you wouldn’t be the one wearing the ring anyways.”

 

Jon barks out a laugh and nods towards the bar, “I’m switching to beer, want one?”

 

There’s still more than half of her drink in her hand but she nods so he has an easy escape. Arya straddles Gendry and Robb and Rickon scatter like mice. Sansa rolls her eyes to herself and takes another tiny sip of her drink while she thinks about what to say if Jon brings up his ex again.

 

Her brothers are dancing together and creating a total weirdo scene with their off sync moves. Sansa goes to get Arya’s attention but drunkenly forgets that her sister’s tongue is currently being shoved down her boyfriend’s throat, and instead makes eye contact with the man she’s been avoiding all night. Theon’s jaw is set but his face is otherwise unreadable, and it makes her vodka swirl in her tummy.

 

“Jesus Christ.” Jon groans as he plops down beside her.

 

“What?” Sansa snaps and jerks away from the pull of his toxic gaze. Jon gestures toward Arya and Gendry and takes a sharp inhale, “I wouldn’t have come if I had known I’d be subject to this.”

 

“Yeah right, like you didn’t know they wouldn’t make out in front of us. They’ve done it sober! Multiple times!” Sansa hears her drunken voice getting higher but Jon doesn’t seem bothered in the least. He merely chuckles in response and shrugs, “I’m gunna need a lot of booze to forget this.”

 

His hand touches her knee and she stiffens but doesn’t shy away, it’s far too warm and comforting. Jon isn’t being the least bit predatory, and after all, he’s bought her two drinks. Sansa finishes up the first before slamming it down on the table before them. It doesn’t do anything to interrupt Arya and Gendry, but Theon catches her eye once more.

 

Jon’s too busy laughing to see the way Theon’s watching her reach for the second drink Jon got her. When it’s in her hand, she pushes aside the tiny black straw and instead just puts her mouth directly on the glass to sling the drink back.

 

“Woah!” Jon does a terrible job at trying to play down his concern with a thin act of being impressed. “Sansa.”

 

She turns to him and whispers in his ear, “I’ve got to go to the bathroom.”

 

Jon looks over her carefully, “Are you okay?”

 

“Never better.” Sansa tries her best to wink and get up smoothly from the booth. Her attempt at collected coolness fails miserably when she wobbled in her heels but she pushes through and heads to where she guesses the bathrooms are. There’s two options: men or women’s room.

 

Sansa looks around and pushes into the women’s room, but hears the peels of shrill drunk laughter and ditches to go into the men’s room. It’s empty and dimly lit which is a much better for what she’s in the mood for.

 

There’s no foot traffic in the few minutes she’s waited for Jon, only a man who opened the door and immediately backed away upon seeing Sansa standing by the sinks. Uneasiness fills her belly and embarrassment quickly spoils to rage when she sees it’s been seven minutes she’s been waiting like an idiot for a guy who was just being friendly. Sansa plays at fixing herself up in the mirror, but stops as soon as the bathroom door swings open.

 

The last bit of hope is squashed at the sight of Theon standing in the doorway. “Didn’t know you needed the men’s room.”

 

“A lot has changed Greyjoy.” The comeback rolls off her tongue much too easily.

 

Theon stalks toward her and shamelessly stares at her tits with narrowed eyes. “Sure has, Stark.”

 

Sansa feels like she’s 16 all over again as she backs into the sink behind her. The cold porcelain seeps through her next-to-nothing dress and her heartbeat quickens with his proximity. His face is inches from hers when he adds on, “What are you doing in here?”

 

“I...I was just—“ Sansa practically trembles before him and his lopsided smirk melts away whatever she’d been feeling before he walked in.

 

Theon tilts his head, “You want me to go fetch Snow for you?”

 

The silence between them stretches uncomfortably long before he snaps it; Theon barely moves in and Sansa smashes her lips against his. They tangle together in tongues and embraces before Theon spins her around to look at the filthy mirror above the sinks.

 

One of his firm hands slides up from her side to grip her chin and make sure she’s watching their reflection. This is the closest they’ve been in years, but that’s all it takes for her to be completely under his spell again. When his stubbled cheek rests against her soft face, a rush of adrenaline gives her the courage (or stupidity) to act like any of this makes sense.

 

“You know what you’re doing, hm?” Theon hisses in her ear as the other hand slides up her thigh, “Not so sweet Sansa anymore.” He takes a bite at her earlobe that makes her cry out.

 

Theon gently kisses her neck to soothe her shock and meets her eyes in the mirror, “You knew exactly what you were doing to Jon and me. That’s why you’re in here.”

 

His hand easily pushes past her flimsy panties and Sansa falls to rest her back against him. Theon uses his body weight to press her up against the sink to purposefully rub his hardness onto her. “Who were you expecting Sansa?” Theon rubs his fingers agonizingly slow across her clit, “Did you want Jon Snow to come in this disgusting bathroom and make you cum like a little whore?”

 

Sansa whimpers at his words and grinds against his hand. Theon’s grip on her chin grows stronger as he gives in and rubs against her wanton movements. She’s completely soaked but she’s too drunk to be embarrassed about how easy this is for him.

 

Years of hard work at perfecting her cold shoulder towards him completely gone without him having to really even try. Really goes to show how little of interest she has been to him all this time.

 

But damn his fingers are just as good as she remembers, if not _better_.

 

“Jon would never.” Theon’s condescending whisper makes her hair stand up, “But you knew that.”

 

Sansa swallows as she feels herself coming close to the edge. She parts her lips and glares at him through her lidded eyes, but she’s not angry. A part of her knew Jon wouldn’t ever follow her in here. He’s a gentleman fresh out of a long term relationship. Only dirtbags like Theon Greyjoy make girls cum in club bathrooms.

 

“Tell me.” Theon commands, “Tell me what you want.”

 

His hand slows just a bit and Sansa panics, “To cum, please make me cum.” She knows how to beg because he taught her.

 

“Hm?” His eyebrow is arched and his smile lazy, “Say it all Sansa and get it all.”

 

“I came in here so you’d make me cum, I want you to make me cum, please, please…” Sansa falls against him as her legs go weak. Theon chuckles against her bare neck as she unravels before him.

 

Sansa has always had better orgasms while under the influence, and this proves no different. She’s still a bit shaky when Theon backs off, and she watches incredulously as he heads towards the door.

 

“Theon?” She calls out in disbelief.

 

He spins around and sucks on the fingers he’d just used to finish her as a response. The door swings shut and she lets out a sharp sigh.

 

_Fucking hell._

 

Round two of straightening herself up in the mirror and another guy walks in. He’s too drunk to care that she’s there and he heads straight for the urinal. Sansa merely frowns and then gets out as fast as she can.

 

The music causes her head to pound, or maybe it’s just her sobering up, and she feels breathless as she nears the table. Arya and Gendry are all done with their exploration of each other’s mouths and watch her in amusement as she takes a seat beside Rickon.

 

“What’d you do in there?” Arya teases and Sansa immediately stiffens. Her eyes fall on Theon as her little sister finishes, “Did you fall in?”

 

It earns a laugh from everyone but Theon who just takes a long sip of beer and stares out into the dwindling crowd.

 

Jon moves from his spot between Rickon and Gendry and anxiously sinks down to sit by her once more. “They’re all trying to head out, it’s getting late.”

 

Sansa nods and feels her cheeks burn in shame. She really had wanted Jon to meet her in the bathroom, and the rejection finally catches up with her after what just happened. “Obviously.”

 

Jon winces at her sharp tone, but she feels him rallying beside her. Working up the nerve to scoot a little closer and lean in, “Would it be alright if I called you tomorrow?”

 

Rickon, Bran, and Robb start rising to their feet and Sansa senses their eagerness to leave. She swallows when she makes abrupt eye contact with Robb. But all her older brother does is shoot a smug smile and turn to help Arya to her feet.

 

“Sure.” Sansa answers as she watches Theon finish off his beer. “Yeah, I’d like that.” Sansa looks back at Jon’s timid face and sees him begin to chew on his lip.

 

“Great.” Jon stands up a bit too quickly and stumbles a bit, but recovers easily with a charming laugh. He reaches his hand out to help Sansa, “I promise I can help you up better than I can help myself.”

 

“Yeah, let’s see about that.” Sansa pulls a face before he pulls her up and close to him. They look at one another with broadened smiles, but the moment shrinks when Rickon cuts in.

 

“Come on!” He pesters them and Bran gives them a giant thumbs up as he pushes by with their younger brother. Gendry and Robb are deep in conversation as they pass by, but Robb doesn’t miss a chance to give Jon a playful shove.

 

Arya leans in towards them and shouts, “Our uber is full! Order your own!” An all too familiar and diabolical smile spreads across her face that makes both Jon and Sansa sigh at once. She’s far too clever, that one.

 

Theon doesn’t even look their way as he passes by, but Jon isn’t phased in the least. He chatters on about beer and some memory of a holiday at the beach. Sansa can’t keep up while they fight through the crowd to meet up with their crew outside. She’s ordering an uber on her phone when Jon cuts in, “I already ordered it.”

 

“Oh.” Sansa says and shoves her phone back into her purse, “Were you saying that?”

 

Jon laughs at her and nods, “Yes, Sansa, I said you’re horrible at multitasking right now. I already put the order in when we were fighting through the doors.”

 

It’s a balmy summer night and the stars are faint against the city lights. When they catch up with her family, they all gather in a circle to joke around and wish Arya happy birthday for the millionth time. When the ubers start pulling up, Sansa’s heart lodges to her throat.

 

She hasn’t been alone with Jon Snow since they were kids and it was harmless. This is intentional and it’s clear it means something more than just buying drinks at a club to Jon.

 

They sit together in the backseat and conversation comes without any trouble. Sansa feels comfortable beside him and allows him to drunkenly babble on about a hockey game she doesn’t know anything about. Jon insists that she gets dropped off at her place first, and for that she’s grateful.

 

The uber pulls up to her humble home and Sansa opens her door while stumbling through pleasantries and farewells. Jon’s eyes are so wide when she gives him a smile and says she looks forward to his call.

 

“Goodnight, Sansa.”

 

“Goodnight, Jon.”

 

It’s like a fucking movie, except another guy made her cum in the bathroom only thirty minutes ago. It gnaws at her insides and keeps her awake, the only thing that makes it worse is Jon’s lovely text she receives when he arrives at his own place.

 

“You looked beautiful tonight. Thanks for sharing a ride with me. Talk to you tomorrow.”

 

She tosses and turns and rereads his thoughtful message several times before throwing in the towel on sleep. X-Files illuminates her living room as she chows down on a bowl of ramen when she starts to really feel kind of funky over how the night went.

 

She turns off her TV as soon as she’s done eating and heads straight back into bed. It’s 4:00 when she checks her phone and she scolds herself for staying up way beyond a reasonable time. When her eyes are finally closed and she’s fully relaxed and ready to succumb to some much needed sleep, that’s when an unsaved number texts her “hey”

 

_Theon_ , Sansa silently seethes for a while before responding.

 

“hi”

 

**Author's Note:**

> pls don’t make me turn off anonymous commenting


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